Cafe au Lait
by mindmelda
Summary: Why does Wufei keep running away? Will he stay this time? 345, shounen-ai, mention of 23, 14, 25


Title: Café au Lait  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Citrus, Humor Pairing: 3+4+5 (past 2+5, 3+2, 1+4 mentioned) Warnings: Yaoi, Post EW Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB  
  
Summary: Same timeline as "Tea with Quatre" and "Shivers". Will Wufei finally stay?  
  
Café au Lait  
  
"Coffee's ready," said Trowa, using the tail of his shirt to pick up the hot pot from the gas burner.  
  
Wufei held out his cup. The steaming liquid went into the mug.  
  
He blew across the surface of the bitter brew, then tentatively took a sip.  
  
Trowa raised a tiny pan of steamed milk and poured it into his mug, then added coffee until his own mug was filled.  
  
"I've never seen anyone drink coffee like that," commented Wufei.  
  
"Café au lait," said Trowa. "Half milk, half coffee."  
  
They drank in silence. Silence was always easy with Wufei, the Chinese ex- pilot never expected small talk, that social nicety that most people were expected to have mastered.  
  
"Is it good?" Wufei finally asked, breaking the quiet reverie of the morning.  
  
Trowa slowly offered his mug with two hands. "Try it."  
  
Wufei hesitated. "Drinking from another's cup is an intimate act," he said quietly. "At least in my culture it is."  
  
The tiniest of smiles tugged at Trowa's lips. "And sharing the same bed is not?"  
  
Wufei's dark eyes widened slightly. "Good point," he conceded dryly.  
  
He took the cup carefully in two hands and sipped. He made a small face.  
  
Trowa chuckled under his breath.  
  
"I suppose it's an acquired taste," said Wufei, chuckling a bit too.  
  
"Most things are," said Trowa.  
  
"Do I smell coffee?" asked Quatre, scratching his fuzz-covered jaw lazily. He was shirtless, barefoot, and wearing only loose plaid pajama pants. His shoulder length, curling hair was tangled.  
  
He leaned over and gave Trowa a small kiss.  
  
"People who don't shave before they kiss me don't get coffee," complained Trowa, rubbing his stinging upper lip a bit.  
  
"Wufei doesn't mind," yawned Quatre, going over to the other side of the small table and offering his lips.  
  
"Wufei does too mind," said Wufei, ducking the offered good morning kiss.  
  
"Fine, I'll get my own," said Quatre petulantly. He deliberately raised an arm and scratched his pit, smirking.  
  
"Milk is on the stove," said Trowa, winking at Wufei.  
  
"Ew," said Quatre, shuddering delicately. "How can you drink that stuff?"  
  
He opened a cupboard over the small stove in the kitchenette. After some groping he pounced upon a small jar of honey, opening it and sticking in a spoon.  
  
"Mmmmm." he said, sticking out a pink tongue and dribbling some into his mouth from the spoon. He then stuck the spoon in his coffee and stirred it around.  
  
"That's disgusting," said Wufei, screwing up his nose. "You've been hanging around Maxwell too much. His food fetishes have rubbed off on you."  
  
"It's my honey, I'll abuse it if I want to," said Quatre, sitting down at the free end of the table, coffee cup in one hand, honey jar and spoon in the other.  
  
He dipped in the spoon again, sticking out his tongue to catch the dribbles.  
  
He drank a mouthful of the strong coffee.  
  
He dipped in the spoon, and licked some more honey off of it.  
  
After watching this procedure several times, the other two young men were frankly staring at him. The way wolves watch a wounded sheep. Trowa unconsciously licked his lips.  
  
"Is he always like this?" Wufei finally asked in a stifled voice.  
  
"Pretty much," said Trowa with feigned casualness, taking a large swallow of his now cooled café au lait.  
  
"You drink coffee your way, I'll drink it mine," said Quatre lightly. He dipped the spoon in again, and rolling it a few times, brought the loaded spoon to his mouth.  
  
A long dribble landed on his bare chest. "Oh, shit," said Quatre, trying to scrape it off with the side of his forefinger. He stuck the sticky finger in his mouth and sucked it off loudly, ending with an audible, wet plop.  
  
Wufei groaned, and laid his forehead on the table in a comical fashion.  
  
"Quit teasing Wufei," said Trowa. "It's mean." He reached over and gave Quatre's shaggy hair a small yank.  
  
"OW!" yelped Quatre. He glared at Trowa and stuck out his tongue.  
  
"Wufei can do what he wants."  
  
"Could you both stop talking about me like I'm not here?" protested Wufei, forehead still pressed against the table.  
  
"Sorry," the two other men said in unison.  
  
"I'm going to take a walk," said Wufei, rising from the table. He put his coffee mug in the sink, shrugged on a jacket over his burgundy flannel shirt and jeans, and silently went out into the surrounding woods.  
  
"Well, that worked," said Trowa dryly.  
  
"I must be losing my sex appeal," yawned Quatre, reaching up to scratch at his jaw again.  
  
"You scared him off, Cat," chided Trowa in a gentle voice, "That's not like you."  
  
"I know," said Quatre, exhaling loudly. "I really thought he could handle it by now. Doesn't he know how we feel about him, after all these years?"  
  
"I think he knows," said Trowa, "He just doesn't know he knows. Does that make sense?"  
  
"I always know what you mean," said Quatre, giving his love a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll have to make it up to him."  
  
"I know you will," said Trowa. He drank the last swallow of the caramel colored beverage in his mug.  
  
"In the meantime, let's go re-introduce you to Mr. Razor," said Trowa, "You're like snuggling with a bloody cactus."  
  
"I thought you liked it," said Quatre, stubbornly, reaching up and running his finger proudly against the quarter inch of golden stubble.  
  
"I said I could tolerate it," said Trowa. "It's been 3 weeks of sandpaper kisses, I don't think I can take much more."  
  
"Well, it is kind of itchy," conceded the blond man, scratching again. "How about just a goatee?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Trowa shook his head.  
  
"A mustache?" Quatre pleaded.  
  
Trowa frowned.  
  
"Soul patch?" he begged pitifully.  
  
A level stare.  
  
"Okay, It's gone today," he sighed, setting down his cup and shuffling back upstairs. He turned at the bottom of the stairs. "You're the one he needs to talk to, Tro. He's uncertain about your feelings. Go find him. I'll be there in a little while. Clean shaven, I promise." He put his hand on his chest in a reflexive gesture that Trowa recognized.  
  
Trowa gathered up the cups and put them in the sink. "I'll go," he said simply. Quatre nodded and smiled sadly before he turned to go upstairs.  
  
"Café au lait," murmured Trowa when Quatre left. He licked a smear of honey off of the spoon before he set it in the sink.  
  
Wufei walked away from the cabin using a stony path he knew led to a small hillock covered with grass and wildflowers. A small brook nearby offered a comforting sound that reminded him of the water features in Zen gardens.  
  
This had become his favorite place to meditate since he'd been here.  
  
He sat down in the lotus position on his leather jacket, so the morning dew wouldn't permeate his loose jeans and stilled his breathing.  
  
Focusing on the faint sounds of nature around him, he began to strive once again for clarity.  
  
Trowa knew where Wufei had gone, it was where he'd gone every morning for the last week since he'd accepted their invitation to spend his vacation with them.  
  
After an hour, he found himself wandering up the path to find his friend.  
  
Coming to the top of the hill, he found Wufei's black leather jacket neatly folded upon the grass. He looked up and saw Wufei in a small flat clearing of grass by the brook, practicing his katas.  
  
He sat down on grass to observe, limbs languidly sprawled with careless grace as he leaned against the base of a nearby oak.  
  
Wufei finished, a light sheen of sweat shining torso, visible under the tank top he still wore, his flannel having been discarded. He picked it up and wiped his face against the sleeve.  
  
"Cat didn't mean to upset you," said Trowa, as Wufei came and sat next to him on the grass.  
  
"I know. I'm not upset, merely confused."  
  
"Too many choices are confusing, I suppose."  
  
Wufei looked up at the other man. "I've caused enough damage in my short life, I do not wish to cause my few friends more pain."  
  
"It's rather arrogant for you to assume you can destroy what Quatre and I have between us, isn't it?  
  
Wufei folded his arms and looked away. "Perhaps. I'm not the best judge of that."  
  
"Oh, but you are," said Trowa, putting a hand on his arm. "Think about it, the damage would already have been done if that were so."  
  
"Perhaps I need something less complicated." Wufei gently disengaged his arm.  
  
"Like what, being alone?"  
  
"Yes. It's not as bad as you seem to think it is."  
  
"Then why do you keep showing up on our doorstep? And eventually, in our bed?"  
  
Wufei looked stricken for a moment, then composed his features.  
  
"It's unfair of you to parade my weakness in front of my eyes." He rose in one graceful movement, reaching down to pick up his jacket.  
  
Trowa caught his wrist. "I never said it was a weakness. You did."  
  
"Let go of me," Wufei said in a low, barely controlled voice.  
  
Trowa released his grip and rose to his feet.  
  
"That's the problem, Wufei. I don't seem to be able to let go of you. Neither of us can."  
  
Wufei's breathing was loud and harsh in his ears.  
  
He looked down. "I keep telling myself each time will be the last, but I eventually find myself in the same place."  
  
"Ever wonder why?"  
  
"All the time."  
  
"Figure anything out you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"  
  
Wufei sat back down on the grass and exhaled loudly. Trowa did likewise.  
  
"Your sense of humor still takes me by surprise," said Wufei, finally.  
  
"Me too," said Trowa. "I never believed I had one for years. I'm sure no one else did either."  
  
"We've all changed," said Wufei.  
  
"And not," said Trowa. "In the course of some of that thinking you've done, did you ever think about how being child soldiers molded us?"  
  
"Sometimes," said Wufei frowning. "We're all quite different from each other."  
  
"No, we're all very much alike in one very important way," said Trowa. "We're each very much isolated by what happened to us. Perhaps only another person who has experienced what we have can understand us. We only had each other and even then, not always."  
  
"What are you saying?" asked Wufei, still frowning.  
  
"I have faith in you Wufei," said Trowa, unexpectedly. "You will figure it all out eventually. Don't let this uncertainty of yours chase you away from the only people who might really understand you."  
  
"Can I tell you something?" said Wufei after a long silent moment.  
  
"Certainly," said Trowa waiting patiently. He plucked a stem of grass and placed it between his lips.  
  
"I always assumed that I would end up with Duo. I thought was in love with him. Once at any rate."  
  
Trowa raised an eyebrow, knowing what that had cost the other man to admit.  
  
"I know, Wufei. At one point or another, we were all in love with him. Duo is, well, Duo. He's an amazingly attractive person. I used to think, I still think, he is the living embodiment of joie de vivre. It's intoxicating to be around. A person could easily drown in it." He sounded like someone reminiscing.  
  
Wufei's mouth hung open and his eyes widened in an epiphany of realization. "You too?"  
  
Trowa smiled faintly, shyly. "Are you asking me if I had sex with him?"  
  
Wufei's face colored. "No. I would not be so rude."  
  
"I did," said Trowa, twirling the grass. "When you're 15 years old, with certain um, proclivities, and the only other person around is another 15 year old with some of those same tendencies, what do you think is going to happen, mon vieux? Duo was the only person I saw that wasn't an enemy for about 2 months at one point."  
  
"I see," said Wufei. "How." he stopped himself. "It's really none of my business."  
  
"I don't mind," said Trowa easily. "One night, he came to our hideout from a mission, and I found him crying, trying to open a jar of peanut butter. I admit, I was waiting for him, there in the dark. I picked him up off the floor, and took him to my room. You can imagine the rest. Quatre knows too, just like I know about the time he slept with Heero."  
  
"Heero?" Wufei shook his head.  
  
"It was just once," said Trowa. "Like Duo and I. Just something that happened because of isolation, stress, hormones and probably just the overwhelming need for human contact."  
  
"We're not 15 years old anymore," said Wufei. "I can't keep blaming everything I do on surging testosterone levels."  
  
Trowa laughed softly. "I guess we can't."  
  
"But, you and I both know, that there has to be more to it than sex. I always thought we had more, Wufei. Think of how many mornings you've actually just slept with us, ate with us, laughed with us, and grieved too. If you never come back, that will go too. I'll miss it terribly."  
  
"And Quatre?"  
  
"I let Quatre speak for Quatre," smiled Trowa. "Otherwise, I get ignored and I don't like that."  
  
Wufei gave a small smile. "Always a good idea not to piss off Quatre-sama."  
  
"My ears are burning!" said Quatre's voice.  
  
The looked up and saw Quatre walking towards them. He raised a hand and waved, the early morning sun bouncing blindingly off of his white blond hair.  
  
"It's gone!" said Trowa, cheerfully, waving back.  
  
Quatre walked up to them, running his hand along his now cleanly shaven jaw.  
  
"Only for you, mon amour." He plopped down on the grass besides them, draping his head in Wufei's lap, and throwing one leg over Trowa's.  
  
"Wufei gets the first kiss, because he never made fun of my beard," said Quatre. He reached up and pulled Wufei's face down, and kissed him soundly on the lips.  
  
Trowa grinned. "I'm a patient man, you know that."  
  
Quatre still held Wufei's face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I was being a nasty brat this morning. Do you forgive me?"  
  
"Of course," said Wufei. "Although it had more to do with me than with you."  
  
"He's so nice," said Quatre to Trowa in a teasing voice, wrapping his arms around Wufei's neck. "He gets to come on our next vacation."  
  
"Me too," said Trowa. "He doesn't hog my shampoo, either. Or the blankets. Or drink the last of the orange juice and put the bottle back anyway."  
  
"Humph." Quatre said. "Now Wufei has to vote. Does he want to keep us?"  
  
Quatre looked intently at Wufei. "I mean it," he said, his tone serious now. "It's really up to you, but I can't imagine life without you, Wufei. Please keep me."  
  
"You make it very difficult to say no," said Wufei, meeting his eyes.  
  
"Does that mean you were going to say no?" asked Quatre, looking vaguely distressed.  
  
"I don't know what I was going to do."  
  
"He's honest, too," Quatre said to Trowa. He exhaled in relief.  
  
"Always a plus," agreed Trowa.  
  
"He's also very beautiful," added Quatre, who reached up ran his fingers through Wufei's long silky loose hair.  
  
"Oh, no question about that."  
  
"Will you two stop that!" said Wufei, but he was beginning to laugh.  
  
"Is that a yes?" asked Quatre, excitedly.  
  
"Where else am I going to go?" asked Wufei, between chuckles. "It's not every day a man gets told he's both honest and beautiful."  
  
"Nowhere but here," Trowa agreed. He reached around and embraced Wufei from behind, pushing his shirt down to kiss him on one shoulder.  
  
"This is wonderful," said Quatre, sighing, after another moment.  
  
"Very comfortable," agreed Wufei. He leaned down to kiss Quatre, whose head was still resting on his thigh.  
  
"Café au lait," murmured Trowa, pulling them both into his arms.  
  
The End 


End file.
